Poetry Forum

I smell the big pink enemy.
Stench of the the west,
And all their best,
Pornography.

It’s hot here but I feel the heat,
Of greasy flesh,
And the bloody mess,
Of your defeat.

Buddha keeps me safe.
I watch you crawl.
A belly full.
To stick my blade.

Update: Thank you both kj and Caleb, think I've cracked it. I tried 'deep, strong stench' but the ST consonance was overbearing and 'strong' took the emphasis off 'stench' too much. Also, 'Strong' is too much like 'deep' and seemed to be superfluous. Have arrived at 'deep, sharp stench' which rhythm...

Thanks kj, The second line did cause me some trouble and I am still not happy with it. As it stands it is one syllable short, annoyingly. I wanted to keep the assonence of REEking and DEEp which I think is key to the rhythm of the line but whatever I did (and I went through many itterations includin...

Another night off the substitute’s bench, The lads all reeking of the deep, sharp stench. Acrid burn of pine fresh flush, And aftershave. Anyone seen Dave? Down among the spew stains and cigarette butts. Pigskin jacket and pigskin snacks, Fat men joking with the girl out back. But that’s ok, She’s g...

I read that 62.4% of all statistics are made up. :D But seriously, O is very archaic, no arguement there. The idea to use it came from a more contemporary artist, Laurie Anderson. Her works have had a major impact on me ovr the years and I think it was a kind of personal homage to Anderson's 'O Supe...

I liked the poem. I came across a school of though recently that is quite contraversial but nonetheless has an air of truth to it. It goes like this ... The current arguement over the environment is redundant. The environment is everything and the interactions therein. The whole environmental arguem...

I thought the line

"Our own Enigma code." was inspired.

Really great read.

SF

Thank you for your review. The structure I used for this poem is adapted from classical Welsh poetry. Perhaps it lends itself better to the Welsh language but I was pleased with the results on a personal level. It creates a grandeur, that is possibly beyond my ability to do justice to. Undaunted, I ...

Hi Cam, Good spot, I am a great admirer of Dylan Thomas and also of Gerald Manley Hopkins. It would seem I like melodrama and baroque. I am not really sure what you mean by abstract. The poem is about time and that is (I hope) fairly clear throughout the poem. I have used clasical imagry as meaphore...

There is a underlying sadness to this poem. The imagery brings to my mind a feeling of thick summer days that drift past unused like the coupons on the fridge. Only to find one day it is too late to cash in those coupons.

Great read

SF

It's an interesting thought, I never saw 'reckless wisdom' as an oxymoron when I wrote it but I can see what you mean. I meant for 'reckless' to inform the reader that wisdom is not always what it appears to be. What to one may seem wise to another may seem reckless. Having said that it does work as...

O Century Where were you when our love blistered, cracked, And fell into the soundless sleep That makes a bitter resonance of days? O Century Where were you, when the clock struck dumb The voices raised in anguish and despair And crushed the sweet rebellion of hope? Time heals nothing, But sucks our...

The rhyming issue aside I thought there were some fantastic lines in this. "Romance as damned currency." has a wonderful darkness to it that I would personally have liked to have seen developed a little more. But that really is just my personal taste, a little baroque. "Do flummox man...

Pale imitation or Promethean child? Within this scabrous façade, My skin of steel, my feet of clay. Motes suspended in Sun rich vein, That bleeds its light in stale corners. Where cherubs pick upon the fallen, And love lies crumpled now. A rose unopened for a broken vow. Am I not immortal? Ghosts dr...

Thank you THOMAS, I have just moved over from Writers Dock, where the quality of reviews was not good. It is a plesant experience to read constructive feedback instead of spiteful remarks. I appreciate some peole will not like my poetry, as I too have my own tastes but you have made me feel I made a...

In the shallow end of night I wake and blink through sleepy tear. To wait upon the wintered brim of world in bridal flush, For silence on the woody web to raise a fragile hush. In evergreen, such fallow finds no voice, yet true and clear, The whist beneath a pepper moon, disquiet disappeared. There,...